


May This Night Keep You Here

by electricshoebox



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricshoebox/pseuds/electricshoebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment after Bull returns home. Something shifts between them, as it's been shifting all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May This Night Keep You Here

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the lovely [annundriel](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/annundriel), who was musing about how wonderful it is just to imagine Bull and Dorian making out just for the sake of kissing, just for the sake of connecting. The image struck me so much, and then this happened. Just a sappy little thing. Title from "My Father's Waltz" by Hem, as I couldn't help thinking of it after I wrote this, and the similar themes.

Dorian finds Bull on a stool by his hearth, his greataxe resting across his legs, his head bent to the task as he cleans the dust of Redcliffe from it. It still clings to his boots, which sit neatly near the door. The fire is the only light in the room, but it blazes bright and warm, as much as Bull's smile when he looks up to see Dorian leaning on the doorframe.

"So here you are," Dorian says. "I thought certainly you'd be in the tavern. It's been a whole week since Rocky's gotten the chance to pretend he can outdrink you."

Bull chuckles, turning back to the axe. He swipes his cloth along the haft. "Nah. Said hi to the boys, but the ride back was long, and I...wasn't up for it." 

The grin that had been slowly spreading across Dorian's lips (without his permission) falters, and he straightens a little. "Ah. You’re...well, I trust?" 

"Yeah, fine," Bull says. "Just tired. Just wanted to..." 

Bull pauses, his eye lifting to Dorian's, then dropping back to his hands. His voice goes soft, and there’s warmth in it. "Well. Glad you're here." 

That smile fights its way back to Dorian's lips. He steps further inside, closing the door behind him. Bull lifts the axe from his lap, setting it gently against the hearth, the blade glinting through the firelight before it settles. 

"Come here, big guy," Bull says, but it's quiet, not with the heat Dorian expects. It’s supposed to be the two of them meeting halfway to the bed, shedding clothes as they go, and fucking their way through all the days they missed. That is the dance he knows, their dance: the step and turn and step again, to the beat of a teasing repartee. But there’s nothing teasing in Bull’s voice now, and his gaze is gentle. Something flutters in Dorian's chest. 

"I thought you were all tired out," Dorian says. A half-hearted attempt to regain his footing. 

"Not for this," Bull says as Dorian reaches him. "Not for you." 

Bull's hand curls around Dorian's waist. There’s some remark about “insatiable beasts” on Dorian’s tongue, but it flees him when Bull looks up at him like...like _that_ , and what is left to do but swallow around the lump in his throat and let Bull tug him down. He straddles Bull's waist, and settles himself comfortably against Bull's thighs as his arms slide around Bull's shoulders. Bull's hands slip around the small of Dorian's back, warm and sure. 

"Hey," Bull says softly as Dorian settles himself. 

"Hello," Dorian breathes, his wit abandoning him altogether. "I suppose I rather neglected to say: welcome home." 

Bull just hums, pressing his smile to Dorian's cheek, then a kiss after it, his nose nuzzling gently toward Dorian's temple. "Glad you're here," he says again, a rumble in Dorian's ear.

"Missed me, did you?" Dorian says, more breathless than teasing. More sincere than he wishes. 

Bull pulls back enough for their eyes to meet. "Yeah. Guess I did." 

"Well, then, let us make up for lost time, hmm?" Dorian says. Bull just runs his hands slowly up Dorian's back as the fire snaps, leaning to press a few lazy kisses to Dorian's jaw.

"Just let me... take my time tonight," Bull says against Dorian's skin. 

Dorian's eyes fall closed. _Oh._

"As you wish," he says, and Bull kisses the rest of the way across Dorian's jaw to his chin, then up to the corner of his mouth, then finally to his lips. The kiss is slow, lingering, and Bull's fingers press a little tighter in the fabric of Dorian's robe. And damn, it feels good to have the Bull in his arms again, to touch him, kiss him. It feels...wonderful. Bull’s hands are gentle but sure, seeking, warm. Bull tilts his head and kisses him again, and then again, and Dorian sinks into it, into _him._

Oh, they've shared kisses without counting. Passionate, desperate, sharp, filthy, and Dorian's found himself swept away by each one, by the electric feeling of Bull's attention. But there's an intensity to this, to the way Bull kisses him now, that can't match any of the most frenzied kisses they'd shared before. 

Bull hums against his lips and then deepens the kiss, and Dorian is nearly dizzy with the feeling. This is nothing they haven't done before. This is far more than they've ever done before. There are words in this, muddled somewhere in slide of their lips, the press of their tongues, the heat and breath and press of each other. Words unspoken, but felt, _known_ \--suddenly, and strongly. Dorian kisses Bull a little harder when he feels them. 

_I missed you too, _he thinks. But that isn't enough, isn't everything, and he won't stop to say it. Bull knows.__

__Bull's hand finds its way to the back of Dorian's neck, his thumb trailing feather-light over Dorian's jaw. Dorian's grip on his shoulders tightens in answer. Want pools low in his belly, a distant sort of warmth, not pressing, but present, making every kiss feel a little heady._ _

__"Dorian," Bull whispers, his breath hot on Dorian's chin. Dorian presses their foreheads together as Bull's thumb trails across his jaw again._ _

__"You've gone terribly soft on me tonight," Dorian says._ _

__Bull leans back a just a little. "Disappointed?"_ _

__"Not in the least," Dorian says. "Only surprised."_ _

__"It was a long trip," Bull says again with a bit of a shrug._ _

__Barely more than a week, in truth, and light work, Dorian knows: a few errands in Redcliffe Village, a stop at Dennet’s farm, then back again into the mountains. There's something in those words, then, something else. So that's... well. _Something_. _ _

__Bull draws him back to his lips, and Dorian gladly goes. He can wonder at it later, when he's not so warm and soothed and content. He melts into the kiss, and lets Bull take the lead._ _


End file.
